


Just say no (...It won't matter anyway)

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hypocritical oath. Thought you were a maths professor." Kisses felt good, and he leaned in, cheekbones mashed against Jim's face for a moment. What it came down to was that he knew nothing at all about Jim, but fuck, he trusted him </p><p>"Multi-tasking," Jim replied looking deep into his eyes, and then smiling. "Your pupils are nowhere near dilated enough. The pain medication must be wearing off. But I have come prepared for that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just say no (...It won't matter anyway)

Guns were beautiful things. Beautiful, lovely things. Stainless steel, fluted barrels, free floated at their best, he loved a good rifle. Loved it. Which probably went a long way to explaining why he was hugging his AS50 more than he was cleaning it intently, trying to breathe through the heavy muffling fuzz of his painkillers.

Jim often said he was a rubbish sniper. Not because he missed, no, he never missed when he committed to a shot, but because he had this tendency to get up close and personal to the action, which was the opposite to what snipers did.

Up close and person meant things got very exciting very quickly sometimes. It wasn't his fault that Jim never allowed him to stay hands off. Sure, cover Jim from a distance, shoot, and then run that distance with his gun to deal with cleanup and people he couldn't reach through windows.

If Jim didn't always decide to mess with things, he wouldn't have been there now with a bloody knife wound from where he was blindsided because Jim had gotten bored when he was meant to be covering his back. Jim was a shite back coverer, Sebastian reminded himself. But the army had taught him too well to let other people cover his six, and it was kneejerk to accept it. And every bloody time, Jim screwed it up, as well. Not that he was going to say that out loud, no. No, he had a gun to reassemble.

"Seeeeb... Am I forgiven yet?" He appeared in the doorway, lurking a little with that smirk.

That smug fucking smirk, like he'd enjoyed getting Seb stabbed, because he probably had. "Whatever, Boss. I'm trying to finish up here." Not a perfect enunciation of every word, but he was trying.

"Oh poor Seb," Jim said sauntering in the room. "You sound all drugged up. Is it the good stuff?"

"Three inch blade stuck to the hilt in my back. What do you think?" He was lucky to not be bleeding inside. That any of them knew of. He was lucky it didn't hit a lung, or or -- it wasn't like the body had a lot of wasted space for catching knives.

"Must be very good stuff," he said smiling at him coming over. "What if I say I'm sorry?"

"Just words." It didn't mean anything, and that was fine. He didn't expect it to mean anything, hut likewise, he didn't see why Him felt a need to really pretend and pretend hard at things he didn't mean.

"I am wounded by your lack of trust," Jim said and moved around to look at him. "Maybe I have to show you that I'm really, really sorry...really."

"Really?" He asked it, mimicking Jim's voice, and then started to laugh, arms still wrapped around the mostly assembled pieces of his rifle. 

"Aww..." Jim flickered his eyes over him. "Are you petting your rifle?"

"I'm trying to..." Fuck. There were screws to be dealt with, and while getting screws out was easy, getting them back in correctly was harder. He started to set it down on the padded cloth he used for laying pieces out, and gave Jim half a glance upwards. "I, no?"

"You'd never forgive yourself if you did something under the influence to your rifle," Jim said, smiling at him. A soothing hand ran over his shoulder.

He didn't answer, but folded up the edges as if to protect the array. Never mind that there wasn't anyone else in the apartment to touch it and it'd be there when he got back to it. "You really are pissed at me." Jim's voice lost a little of his joking lilt. He leaned down and nuzzled again Seb's neck at a hot spot just beneath his ear. "I am really sorry Seb, I mean it."

Jesus. Jesus fucking christ, that always felt good, even when the whole world felt like swimming through Jello with joints and limbs that didn't move right. "Okay, you're sorry."

"I am. I'm here to play nursemaid to you," he said murmured into his ear, nuzzling again. "Have you had enough fluids?"

He squinted, even as he turned his head into that nuzzling instinctively, half sliding an arm around Jim. "Not sure. You're a dangerous nursemaid."

"For shame, Seb, my Hippocratic oath is deeply wounded," Jim said, lightly biting down on his shoulder and then kissing his way to his lips. "There is something very attractive about your blurred around the edges look."

"Hypocritical oath. Thought you were a maths professor." Kisses felt good, and he leaned in, cheekbones mashed against Jim's face for a moment. What it came down to was that he knew nothing at all about Jim, but fuck, he trusted him 

"Multi-tasking," Jim replied looking deep into his eyes, and then smiling. "Your pupils are nowhere near dilated enough. The pain medication must be wearing off. But I have come prepared for that."

"You never studied to be a doctor," Seb murmured, tilting his head to look at Jim. Never mind that he was being kissed silly.

"Are you absolutely sure? Youngest medical resident in Ireland..." He found Seb's lips for a moment.

"You did?" He tried to lean back, straightening up as he moved away from Jim. Fuck. Fuck, everything spun a little, and his back was killing him.

"I don't like to see you in pain..." He smiled after a moment, lingering close even as Seb tried to move. "God, I managed to say that with a straight face. I mean, in pain I haven't caused."

Seb snorted, and considered how to arrange himself off of the floor best, without getting too close to his careful bundle of gun parts. Jim pulled out a small hypodermic. "A little shot of this and you'll be very happy," he cajoled.

"I'm not sure." He had enough space that he considered he might be able to make a run for it. After all, he ran daily, and Jim's idea of exercise was generally highly energetic sex and Olympic slouching in chairs when no one was looking.

"It's just a painkiller. Morphine. Just a hint of it to float the pain away..." Unusually Jim did seem to be asking rather than just ambushing him.

It made Seb more wary on one hand, and more willing at the same time, and Jim surely knew the conflict, knew when Seb gave up and inclined his head in a nod. "Okay. Sure. Sure. I could use some rest."

"Good Seb," Jim crooned and leaned in to expertly tap for a vein. It barely stung as he slide it in and injected him.

The only proof it had happened at all was the tiny welling of blood, briefly perfectly circular against his skin, and then Jim wiped it away with his thumb. "You're going to turn into a blood borne petri dish one day, boss."

"Not from you Seb. I know where you've been," he said. "You'll feel much better soon."

It was a little like a gentle cotton wool haze settling on him, warm and relaxing. Jim had generally put him where he'd been as well, so he'd know. "Mmmhm. I, Jesus. Jesus. I wish you wouldn't put yourself into these places, these positions..."

"But we have to," Jim answered. "Come to the couch and lie down and I'll make it all up to you." He was gently pulling him to move. "I'll check your dressing."

It was awkward, and everything felt like slow jello as he got his legs under him, pain radiating from his back as he got upright. Jim was poor at supporting, but good at dragging Seb along forward, back to the living room, where he could lay down. Stretch out on his stomach and smear his face against the cushion and maybe just pretend he was asleep.

"There..." Jim said solicitously. "Look at you. Look at you all beautiful, and with the strength of wet noodles in your arms and legs. That's sort of sexy."

"Lies," he mumbled into the couch, half-turning his head so he could breath and consider folding his arm under himself. Sleeping felt close, real easy, and it made him wonder what the dosage he'd just received had been.

"Oh it is, you are usually so tight and controlled," Jim purred running his hands over his back. "Which I love as well, but seeing you like this, all unresistant...well..."

He stretched his shoulders, even if it twinged the wound at his back, made skin stretch uncomfortably and twist himself again, minutely. "Yeah? This isn't, this... I can not-resist without drugs."

"Just relax," Jim murmured, pulling at the dressing on his back. "I want to see..." He probably did at that. Jim had these weird thoughts sometimes.

"Please don't put your fingers in it, I don't trust the stitch job anyway." He let Jim, didn't move, didn't fuss, didn't try to shift him off.

"I'm just looking at you," he said. He could feel a golden glow settling over him, mellow and agreeable. "Beautiful, gorgeous..." Fingers were moving carefully over him, exploring.

"Hmn." His eyes closed, more out of reaction than any conscious decision to close them. Jim's hands were nimble, familiar, and he could tell what fingertip was where just from the placement, the pressure of them. He spent a lot of time watching Jim move, reading him, reacting to him or reacting before him.

Surprisingly he was kneading at his back, like some sort of cat. Jim was again nuzzling at his neck. "Feeling any pain now?" he murmured.

"No?" He wondered if he should have been, but he only half looked over his shoulder at Jim. The kneading felt good, surprisingly so, easy to relax into a little more. "If you keep... I'm going to fall asleep."

"You carry on. It won't stop the fun I'm going to have," Jim said licking up his neck."Mmm... Sleeping or awake you're still mine."

"Never disagreed on that," Seb murmured, stretching his legs carefully when he tried to arch into that touch. It seemed to linger for longer than was actually possible, honey slow.

"You're like a big cat," Jim said. "Right now you could probably see big cats wandering past, or imagine a tiger sitting on you. Isn't morphine great?"

"It's all fuzzy." He closed his eyes, and looked sideways out into the living-room. No, no, he wasn't seeing anything. That was good. He'd generally spent his life doing no worse than Tylenol with a bit of codeine on bad injury days, and preferred it that way.

"It's relaxing," Jim's hands were creeping inexorably down his spine to smooth over his ass. He was feeling him up there which was rather pleasant.

It made him wish he didn't have trousers on, but that was dead easy to put an end to. Trousers, pants. Jim had a horrible habit of going commando when a man least expected it, and wearing the most garish underwear known to man when Seb was expecting nothing at all.

"I love your ass," he declared. "People would kill for this ass..." Fingers were slipping under the waistband, and sliding over his skin.

Runching up fabric in a way that made him lift his hips automatically. "Pretty fond of it myself. Pretty fond of yours. I like your body..."

"Good," he said again. "I want to fuck you like this. I want you to do you while you are drugged out of your mind."

"Oh." It wasn't as if it was the first time, or the last, but he was curious as to why, in a drifting disconnected sort of way. Jim started to chuckle a little after he said oh, and then started to push himself up on an elbow. "What're you, I can't imagine you'd. What's the difference?"

"I like the thought of a compliant Seb, unable to resist me even if you wanted to do it." Jim murmured with his hand down his pants.

"Okay, yeah." He closed his eyes for a moment, spread his legs a little more. Getting fucked by Jim was always an experience, almost as good as drilling the crazy bastard's tight little ass himself. 

"It'll like being fucked mid-air," Jim promised. "Without falling. It always amazes me how tight you are, considering." His fingers were finding entrance.

Sliding in, not one, but two, and stretching him. Seb groaned, let one leg fall to the side a little so he could try to move back against Jim. "Fuck, 's not like I do this with anyone but you..."

"You romantic you," Jim said leaning down to kiss his back and nibble at him. "Maybe I meant considering the things I've put in there."

There was a faint suggestion of teeth behind that touch, and he let his mouth relax a little, breathing through the sensation. "You could've done worse."

"Don't tempt me," Jim said and the fingers were moving inside of him, slowing and with a twist.

He could imagine more, though. A lot more than just Jim's dick. Jim liked to play, liked to make things hurt and ache, and he wondered what his hand would feel like. Or what he'd do when he thought Seb was past stopping him at anything. That was sort of a big temptation to dangle in front of Jim. And yet strangely, he couldn't seem to muster enough response to actually get worried about it. It was as if that part of him had just fallen asleep and wasn't on the same page. "What are you thinking about?" Jim asked as a third finger wormed its way in as well.

"Wondering what you might do." He blinked against the sensation of that third finger, clenching tightly around it as he started to wonder.

"I'm making the most of your relaxed state," Jim replied. "I want to see what a difference it can make to what you can take."

"Shouldn't make a difference at all?" Except that he could feel the stretching spread of Jim flattening all three fingers, and it made his dick ache in an echoing sensation. Christ. "Are you putting your hand in?"

"Mm, well there's an idea," Jim drawled behind him. "Your muscles are more relaxed, morphine does that... So they might just stretch some more don't you think?"

"No?" He leaned up on one elbow a little more, and tried to reach back with his good hand to, he wasn't sure what he was trying to do. Get a hold of Jim's wrist? See what he was doing?

"Now, now don't you trust me Seb? Mmm?" Jim said mildly. "Just tell me if you can't take it and I'll stop."

He slouched down a little, caught himself and lowered his hand. "Sure." Three felt fine, after all. Tight, stretching, but fine.

Jim didn't seem to be in a hurry. "Another scar Seb, just as well I find them sexy..." The finger kept moving, little by little."

In and out, back and forth, slowly, easing him down. "That's good. Doubt I'll stop getting them." He liked the feeling of Jim taking his time like that, liked the rich burn that mingled with the muffled fuzz in the back of his head. "Bet you can get another one in."

"What happened to the wariness hmm?" Jim sounded delighted. "Mm, let's see then." More pressure, more stretching.

"I started listening to my dick." He pressed his forehead against the cushion, and lifted his hips again, rocking back hard enough to make it actually hurt, spasming around Jim in reaction. Fuck, yeah, that felt good, almost too much, so he stopped that.

Jim of course wanted to push his luck and tsked a little. "Why did you stop?" He gave him a little stinging slap on the ass. "Move."

"Fuck, c'mon, that's a lot..." That had to be four fingers, straight across, and he could feel the knuckles against the edge of his hole.

"I said move," Jim demanded. "Move now Seb. Fuck yourself on my hand."

Christ. "Fuck. Fuck. You can't..." Be serious, except he was, and that cut through it for a moment, got him focused enough to rock his hips back a little, feeling the pressure of Jim's knuckles threatening.

"Come on... you can do it," Jim cajoled, twisting a little, pushing a little. "Come on Seb, you don't like to lose a challenge do you?"

"Hmn, hmn." He scrunched his eyes closed tight, and pushed back minutely. "Where's your fucking thumb?"

"Not telling you," Jim said playfully. "You might get paranoid and not want to play. Just relax."

"Christ." He exhaled in a whine, and he knew it, more of a throat noise than anything he was trying to convey, but he inhaled again and pushed back properly.

He was rewarded with a jolt of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. There was nothing that didn't seem to hit it over and over. "Good, very good, oh you should see it..." He groaned, moaned, drifted on the feeling of a deep ache beneath the pleasure, of everything clenching and clutching, layered under all of that raw sensation.

"Just as well I have slim hands," Jim murmured. "How does that feel?"

"Amazing?" He pressed his forehead against the sofa, breathing hard. "Fuck, is that your, your whole hand?"

"Uh huh. I got the whole thing in. I feel like I could unravel your guts like this," Jim said in a chipper delighted tone.

"Please don't. Sort of need them..." He was trying to not move, but he swore Jim wiggled his fingers, and it sent Seb's whole body into shivers of sensation again.

He laughed again and even the morphine couldn't completely dull the growing anxiety. However it seemed Jim had decided he had pushed him as far as he could and spent a little time making him quiver and shudder. "I kind of want to fuck you, now I think..."

"What's this, then?" Seb rocked his hips a little, but everything felt too intense, too shuddering with sensation through the fuzz. There was the oddest sensation as the hand withdrew making him feel impossibly empty and then Jim was practically clambering on him to just dive in with his cock, as he slowly started to contract around him.

It wasn't a lot of sensation then, except that Jim was against his back, hands on his hips lifting him up. He didn't have to push back then, even if everything felt stupidly stretched. "Fuck yeah," Jim murmured, going at it at high speed from the word go because he could. He could dimly feel the burning of the injury over the haze of morphine but it didn't look like he was going to get a reach around this time, with Jim caught up in the moment. He was just along for the ride. He wasn't even sure he was hard enough to get off just then, and most of his concentration was on keeping upright ish, not reaching down to touch himself.

Eventually Jim a stuttering finale to his thrusts before coming to a sprawling halt. "That was... fucking amazing," he murmured. "You get off?"

He shook his head, slouching a little more, half boneless on the sofa with Jim on top of him. "Nah."

"On your side," Jim said tugging at him so he could rather ludicrously spoon behind him without actually pulling out of him.

It was awkward, Jim huddled up against his back like that, but he shifted, squirming onto his side, and didn't manage to squish him up against the back of the couch, or fall off. Jim must have been in a good mood because then he got a reach around, now that Jim had satiated his own desires and interest. Teasing to start with but moving with inexorable gathering pace, Jim gave him an expert and relentless handjob.

It probably felt good to Jim, half soft and in him while he rocked and shifted and fucked Jim's hand in a haze of sensation. "Please please, fuck, Jim."

"Come on Seb, Come for me," Jim crooned. His hands were quick and rough on him, wiped clean of whatever he had used. "That's it... That's it, remember the fullness."

A sensation he figured he'd never feel again, because it probably wasn't something he could take often or without drugs. It mingled up in the thicker feeling of haze, and Seb kept thrusting, hitching himself back against Jim and Jim's familiar body when he finally came.

"There..." Jim said, kissing his back again. "Bet you can't feel your back at all." He sounded smug. "Just goes to show that sex is better than drugs hmm?"

"And sex and drugs is strange," Seb decided, sliding fingers down to grasp at Jim's wrist. "Jesus."

"We might need to try it under controlled conditions. But not right now.." He yawned, letting his wrist stay in Seb's grasp. Right then, Seb could relax a little, the pain in his back dulled. He was sure that come the morning he'd be hurting again. But not yet.


End file.
